


Contact

by visionofblue (merelyafigment)



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-16
Updated: 2005-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26949376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelyafigment/pseuds/visionofblue
Summary: Miguel Alvarez POV set during the shoulder-bump in the "Unnatural Disasters" episode. (Written for a prompt.)
Relationships: Miguel Alvarez/Ryan O'Reily
Kudos: 4





	Contact

**Author's Note:**

> Archiving Note: just archiving and backdating very old fic (in 2020). Originally posted on journals long ago 
> 
> Warning: It's Oz, so always beware of possible terrible language, behavior, attitudes, and slurs.
> 
> Written for rojimouse from the prompt: converse without the conversation. (This is one of three different, completely unrelated drabbles inspired by the same prompt.)

O'Reily was talking. A lot. Some bullshit about backing him in the fight, having money on him. Miguel knew better than to actually listen to the words that came out of that mouth. All fronting and spine, charm and spit-shine. Nothing real.

Miguel didn't stop his stroll across the second level, El Norte all around him. His mind was on the upcoming fight. Let his boys talk to the Irishman, thinking it meant something. Miguel just watched O'Reily, while keeping his amusement at the man's friendly low patter off of his face. 

He watched as it turned, just a little, sparks flickering between O'Reily and Guerra. Now, Chico was technically one of Miguel's boys. But he knew better than to take Chico's side in an argument with the slippery Mick. Didn't matter who was right. You bet money with that motherfucker, you knew he was going to find a way to sneak it out of your hands regardless. 

Chico was playing a dangerous game calling O'Reily a liar to his face. Sure, he _was_ , but you didn't say that shit out loud. That made it a challenge. Everyone just knew, you trusted the Irish with _anything_ \-- well, that was your fucking moron move, wasn't it? They would lie, cheat, steal, stick a dagger right in your back with those Irish eyes smiling to your face. 

Everybody did. That was the game in here. Spic or Mick. Didn't matter. 

Speaking of eyes...green eyes narrowed as O'Reily slipped smoother than a razor-edged shank from good-natured to _true_ nature. Voice going deep and dark, as suddenly Chico and O'Reily were close and hissing into each other's faces.

Shouldn’t have called the guy a liar.

Miguel didn't feel bad for Chico, and it was a fucking good thing El Cid stepped in just as O'Reily's demeanor switched easily to annoyed predator. Panther eyeing a dumbfuck yapping dog biting at its heels. Chico held his temper worse than Miguel himself. 

Still...Miguel was on his side. Technically. He swallowed his grin as the two broke apart, Chico technically the loser but with no lost face. 

Miguel brought his slow lope down the stairs right behind Ryan. Right into him, with a firm shoulder check against long lean frame. 

O'Reily didn't startle, barely moved with it, fluidly and firmly standing his ground. 

Miguel smirked, amusement leaking out. 

He had to look back just to see the _What the fuck?_ expression in those narrowed, still annoyed eyes. 

Unlike Chico, Miguel knew how to play with the big cats.

**

End


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